Ghost
by shattered petal
Summary: Ishvala had given him a gift, but teased him with it, almost mockingly. Miles never knew his God could be so cold. -Miles/Olivier


**Title**: Ghost  
><strong>Genres<strong>: Supernatural/Romance  
><strong>Couple<strong>: Miles/Liv  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M

* * *

><p>Miles' body snapped violently, his knees buckled and he collapsed on all fours, inhaling roughly, desperate to keep his eyes wide open, refusing to be pulled away from his soul. Clinging on was useless though. The strength was heavy, biting at his insides and screaming at him – <em>pulling<em>. He clenched his fists, heard Grumman murmur something before the old man fell to the cold floor, dead.

The Ishvalan jarred his teeth, his muscles tensing, sweat forming across his forehead from battling this invisible force. But his body wasn't strong enough. Energy was viscously zapped from him and, finally, the man gave in to this pointless war. The pressure forcing his eyes closed was horrendous. He exhaled shakily, gazing towards the cracked wall. Images of corpses flooded his mind; this was happening to every single being in Amestris.

His dying heart clenched. Miles closed his red pupils, forgetting the world and death. His mind fell at ease, his thoughts lingering towards someone who naturally helped him feel secure and safe. It pained him tremendously to know she was dead. Like he would be in seconds. Miles shot his eyes open. 'Olivier.' And then was gone.

* * *

><p><em>Light. There was nothing else but light. Wherever she was it was light. Empty; lifeless. But freakishly beautiful. She mistook the brightness to be white. The floor she sat upon was white, if not invisible. No walls. No ceiling. Just an empty, bright, white chasm.<em>

_Her legs were folded, palms pressed against her ankles, leaning forwards a little, as if curious or confused. It was silent. All she could hear were footsteps from miles away. Nothing made sense, but she had no desire to question. She wasn't scared, nor happy. Content would be the appropriate term, but it still didn't fit.  
><em>_The source of the footsteps became visible. She craned her neck, looking up towards a gorgeous creature. Its dusky skin rough, eyes a fiery red, ghostly hair falling above its shoulders. Muscles popped from its flesh when it knelt down to her height. It was the perfect specimen of a man._

_She felt like a mess compared to him. Her face covered with blood, arm dripping the thick, red liquid onto the flawless white floor. She was scarred and he was beautiful. She had never known just how supreme he was. _

_He was naked, but she didn't blush. Neither did he. _

_Miles reached out a hand to touch her smooth, surprisingly delicate skin. Blood stuck to his fingertips, ruining his perfections but he couldn't care less. The man sighed. 'Ishvala responded to my call.' His voice echoed the secluded land. If it could even be called "land"._

_She frowned. Not angrily. She wasn't mad. She frowned because she simply didn't understand. 'What was your call?'  
><em>_Her harsh, cold demeanour was stolen; snatched from her. She glowed before him._

_'Utopia.'_

_Olivier's eyes danced. She unfolded her legs, pushed herself up and kissed his lips. Miles inhaled sharply, his mind racing and his body tingling with a strange desire. They broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers, took her waist and gently pushed her down. _

_They kissed again, this time with less care. It was passionate, but almost aggressive. Something drove him wild, killed his fear and allowed him to love her. He pressed his body against hers, pushing his mouth to her lips, entangling her scarred and broken limbs with his own. One of them moaned – he wasn't sure who. He couldn't think._

_Her hands lightly raked down his bare back whilst he pried her jacket apart, a shiver shooting down his spine when she bit his lower lip. She hissed in pain when he felt her hips. She was broken. Miles, at once, retreated his hand. _

_Olivier's jacket was tossed aside carelessly, and he wasted no time claiming her lips again. He brought a hand to the hem of her black top, smoothly caressing her flat stomach and heavy chest. She groaned into his mouth, pushing herself to sit upright trying desperately to take control of the situation._

_He pulled off her top and had to stop. He gazed lovingly at her flawless form, her scars smooth under his touch. Miles kissed her injuries, stroking where her bones had snapped. She sent her hands through his white hair and sighed happily, the pleasure of him being so close was phenomenal. She touched his manhood; he groaned, unclipped her bra and claimed her breasts, nipping her affectionately, his body becoming wild at her gasps. She clung onto him fiercely, throbbing, kissing his lips, straddling him. Miles laughed a little, happiness empowering him. _

_They pulled themselves away from the other, sat, removed her remaining garments before he crawled over her. She gripped him. He kissed her cheek and removed her hand. 'Don't.'_

_Olivier didn't respond with words. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him to her roughly. Their lips met when he took her, a wonderful bliss blossoming inside their respective selves.  
><em>_He moved within her slowly, gently, afraid he would damage her form even more. They shuddered, moaned, her hands grabbing his shoulders, kissing each other, breaking apart the wall that had been built between them for so many years._

_Miles pulled her into a sitting position, she taking him completely, rocking together. Their breaths came sharply; in gasps, holding each other tightly, reassured the other was there. He had never witnessed his commander to be so gentle; she had melted before him, showing a side of her he never knew existed._

_He pulled a small smile against her lips, laid her down, his pace increasing as he neared his end. Miles inhaled, bit his lip, her moans sending him over the edge. He clenched his fists and tensed, before giving a short exclaim. _

_Miles removed himself from her, but instantly wrapped his arms around her fractured body. They kissed – never feeling so exhausted and satisfied before. _

_He trailed a finger across her bloodied cheek. 'Are we dead?'_

_The irony was almost cruel: Olivier had never felt so alive in her life. 'Until something happens.'_

_Miles wanted to be selfish. He didn't want anything to happen. He wanted to stay like this, with her and only her. Ishvala had given him a gift, but teased him with it, almost mockingly. Miles never knew his God could be so cold. _

_Because they would forget any of this happened the moment their souls were plunged back into their lifeless forms. He embraced her, her cheek pressed against his firm chest. Miles exhaled. 'I can wait.'_

* * *

><p>She hesitated at the doorway before demanding the former assassin's name. Content with the answer received, Olivier left the room, naturally leaving a chill in her wake. Miles wondered if it effected Scar as much as it did he. The half-Ishvalan watched the man gaze out of the window almost longingly.<p>

'It won't be long until we'll head for Ishval,' Miles said. 'However you can barely walk. I suggest you return back to bed soon.' The Major began to follow his Major General's path out of the door. He peered around his shoulder to check if Scar was obeying. He still stood at the window. 'Is something wrong?'

After a few seconds, Scar turned back around. 'I must ask you a question.'

'Of course.'

'When our souls had been used for Philosopher's Stones, where were you taken?'

Miles frowned, confused. 'I don't follow.'

'Do you think we _died_?' Scar raised an eyebrow. 'Or slept?'

The Major decided to find this funny and laughed. 'Well. I usually feel more pissed off when I wake up from sleeping than I did then.' He took hold of the door handle. 'Why do you ask?'

'No,' Scar waved him off. 'I only wanted to know.'

Miles departed. He hesitated, wondering which direction to head. Even though he had been in the Armstrong Manor countless times before, he still had trouble working his way around. The lavish red rug had been imprinted with muddy footprints. Miles pushed away the guilt. It wasn't just he who had created this mess.

He walked down the long staircase and spotted his Major General speaking with the butler. A peculiar feeling swept through him, and he began to think he had seen her somewhere in a dream, perhaps. But Miles hadn't slept recently. So why did he feel such?

He managed to eavesdrop a few words. Olivier refused to have any guests enter the Manor. If anybody were to discover Scar hiding in the Manor, then they'd be screwed. And she really wasn't in the mood for a fight. Again.

'It's late. You'd better rest here for tonight,' she spoke to him.

'I can search for a hotel–'

'For God's sake, Miles. We've got more than enough rooms. Make good use of them please.'

He nodded. 'Of course. Thank you, ma'am.' However she had already started walking away.

'You're dismissed. Be up at 0600 hours. This whole situation with Scar will be fucked up if something isn't done about it soon. Also I don't trust him. I have this gut feeling he won't cooperate with you.'

The Major followed her up the staircase. 'He will, ma'am. I've dealt with men like him before. However I have faith he won't be too difficult.'

'If you say so.'

They reached the first landing. She paused and abruptly turned to him, a frown forming across her face. He didn't like the way her eyes trailed down his form. There was something disapproving in her gaze and he wondered if he had done anything wrong.

How could he have though? Miles had only been with her for two hours.

'Major, do you ever get the feeling we met. . . when we hadn't?'

He blinked. _What_?

Olivier was having trouble choosing the correct words. She looked just as confused as he did. 'I feel like I had a dream with you in it, but I don't know what you were doing.'

Miles smiled a little. He felt relieved the odd sensation he felt wasn't just him. 'I know what you mean. But I haven't slept recently.'

'Neither have I.'

Miles watched her think. '. . . Remember anything?'

He was surprised when she pulled a crooked smile. 'I'm getting these images, though they're not very convincing.' She shook her head lightly. 'It doesn't matter. You can have the room over there-' she pointed towards the nearest one on the left. 'Good night, Major.' She walked away, her mind elsewhere.

'Yes ma'am.'


End file.
